After The Nightfall
by CagedTroll
Summary: Scipio is Prosper and Bo's knight in shining armor. But what if he isn't what he appears to be? They must discover the secrets the shadows of the city hold, for their very lives depend on it...WARNING: Very AUdark!Scipioviolenceangst. ON HIATUS!


Soo, here it is, **After The Nightfall**. It's an experiment, inspired by the "Thief Lord Dark Fan Trailer" that used to be on YouTube. Okay, based on. It's pure genius, but has been taken down for reasons I don't know. If someone has seen it and/or knows if it is on the web somewhere, please let me know so I can give it the credit it deserves.

This fanfiction is based on said video. The video is based on the movie. Therefore, this fanfiction is also based on the movie.

I do NOT own "Thief Lord" or anything affiliated with it, nor am I making money with this story. I'm merely writing this for my own crooked pleasure.

_When Bo and Prosper meet Scipio, he is their ray of hope. But what if their knight in shining armor isn't what he appears to be? Threatened and hunted, they must discover the secrets the shadows of the city hold, for their very lives depend on it..._

_Very AU/dark!Scipio/violence/angst_

This Scipio has very little to do with book!Scip or even movie!Scip. Ye be warned.

* * *

**After The Nightfall**

**- 1 -**

**A Ray Of Hope**

* * *

Venice. 

The city of the moon. It looks most beautiful at night, when the light of son's younger brother tops the lagoon and the tiles wet from the fog in pure silver. Yes, from above, it looks almost like the entire city is build out of silver; where the sky above reflects in the canals, dark and welcoming like velvet, one can see diamonds in the water that sparkle almost more brilliantly than the stars above. Truly, a city of magic.

In the streets, where the wind howls and the cold air from the sea bites, one can't see the silver. The canals are dirty, threatening to swallow you if you slipped on the damp stones. The rooftops bathed in moonlight tower – from below – high into the sky, creating passageways that are more difficult to navigate through than a labyrinth. And even the statues and adornments on houses and fountains, the emblem of Venice, are not thrilling anymore at night. They lurk in shadows, horribly disfigured by the shadows that turn them into ghouls and demons. They scare orphan boys who hide in courts between old furniture and garbage, trying to find shelter from the stinging breeze. To them, it is no longer a city of magic – it is dangerous and frightening, a city they don't know, they have only heard about in wonderful magical stories.

This is not the Venice of those stories. It is cold and damp, threatening and terrifying.

A city where monsters lurk in the shadows after nightfall.

* * *

"Prop?" 

Prosper winced at the sound of the weak little voice. His brother was ill; his cheeks were flushed but his nose was so white it scared him. They needed a place to stay, and soon.

"Yeah?" he called back softly, „Are you hungry?"

"Thirsty." Bo coughed painfully. „And my throat hurts."

Prosper sighed. They didn't have anything to eat or drink anymore. Or money, for that matter.

And now he had gotten them lost.

He plopped down next to Bo on a stack of boxes.

"We'll make it, Bo. We're just a bit-"

"Lost?"

The voice made Prosper's hair stand on end.

"Who's there?" he called.

A boy stepped out of the shadows, hardly older than Prosper. A dark coat, somewhat too big for him, fell around him, half hiding his jeans and sweatshirt from view. His longish black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail at the back of his head. He seemed normal enough, had it not been for the bird mask covering the upper half of his face.

He conducted a fancy bow, his dark hair falling into his face.

"Scipio Massimo, at your service. And you are?"

Prosper didn't feel the least inclined to answer, but Bo was quicker.

"I'm Bo. That's Prosper, but I just call him Prop."

"Is that your real name, Bo?" the arrival asked his brother, but Prosper, who had jumped up at the intrusion, pulled Bo into his arms, a gesture the six-year-old had come to read as a sign to shut up.

"What's it to you?" he demanded, but the other merely nodded in an understanding way that made Prosper want to knock some of his teeth out.

"Ah, runaways. Orphans, I presume?"

Prosper merely glared at him. He didn't know what it was about the boy. His body language was that of an open and friendly person who happened to care about those he stumbled upon, his whole mannerism and speech proved him to be not someone from the streets but instead a well-kept individual, polite and merely trying to help. His smile was pleasant, his eyes alight with kindness and caring.

He scared him.

Scipio, as he apparently called himself, seemed to sense his hostile thoughts, because he turned to look directly at Prosper with an odd expression – friendly, yet somehow… seizing him up?

The boy smiled at him.

"Hungry?"

"No," Prosper snapped as his stomach grumbled loudly.

"No?"

Scipio waved his hand about and seemed to procure an apple out of thin air.

"Are you quite sure?"

He smiled at the frowning boy and turned to the younger brother. He offered the apple to him almost seductively, a slight smile hidden in the corner of his mouth.

Bo reached for it, but Prosper slapped Scipio's hand away.

"We can look out for ourselves," he snarled.

Scipio cocked his head as Bo let out another painful coughing fit.

"I wouldn't doubt it. But a little help can't hurt, can it?"

Prosper bit his lip. Why was he so unfriendly to Scipio? The boy had done nothing to deserve the rough treatment he was giving him. He was probably earnestly trying to help – why was he so rude to him?

"We don't need help," Bo explained to Scipio, a wide smile on his face, "My brother takes care of us. He protects me from all the bad stuff."

Scipio laughed and winked at Bo, and Prosper didn't stop him from getting too close to the boy this time. His initial fear slowly began to subside as Scipio flashed him another disarming smile.

"Your brother must be very brave."

Bo nodded.

"Yeah, he's the bravest person I know. He protects me from the grown-ups. And he told Aunt Esther that she was a witch!"

"Bo!" Prosper hissed.

Scipio looked impressed.

"He did, did he?"

He looked from one brother to the other.

"What did your aunt say?"

Prosper was about to reply, but Bo puffed out his little chest and put his hands on his hips in his best impression of Esther Hartlieb.

His voice shrill and hysterical, he screeched:  
"Get that wretched boy away from me! Max! _Max!_ I have never been thus treated in my entire life!"

Scipio laughed and even Prosper could hardly suppress a grin.

It died quickly, however, when Bo once more started to cough, blindly reaching behind him for Prosper. His brother hugged him to his chest and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

"I'm sorry, Bo," he muttered, "I'll get you some medicine as soon as I can."

He looked up to see Scipio watching him, concern written all over his face.

"Prosper, I know what this will sound like to you, but you need to come with me. Your brother needs medical treatment, and I'm presumably right in believing you would like to avoid any hospitals. Please, for your brother's sake. The others are very good at treating wounds and illnesses."

Prosper glanced at him.

"Others?"

"Yeah, two guys and a girl. You'd like them, believe me."

Prosper scrutinized the other boy's face, but there was nothing in it that betrayed Scipio's true motives – if he had any.

He sighed.

_Well, it can't hurt, can it?_

He would curse that thought for years to come.

* * *

Prosper tried to remember the way as he followed Scipio, Bo clinging heavily to his hand, but it was no use. After three or four corners he had already completely lost orientation and stumbled blindly after the boy with the bird mask who led them further and further into the narrowing streets. Prosper was already beginning to wonder if they were ever going to reach their destination – or if there was one and it would be a better idea to just grab Bo and run – as Scipio came to a halt in front of an iron door in the wall. It didn't have a doorknob and looked pretty massive. 

"It's an emergency exit," Scip explained as he pulled an entire key chain out of his pocket and began sorting through it, "It belongs to an old, abandoned cinema that most people have forgotten."

"Why was it abandoned?" Prosper asked.

Scipio shrugged as he chose an astonishingly small key and placed it in the keyhole.

"Safety reasons, I think. But don't worry, it suits our needs just fine."

He pushed the door open to reveal pitch black darkness.

Scipio smiled at the reluctancy showing in the brothers' faces.

"It's alright," he assured them, motioning into the hallway with his head. Slowly, Prosper took a few tentative steps, Bo still clinging to his side. He breathed through gritted teeth as Scipio followed them, allowing the door to fall shut and envelope them in complete darkness.

"Keep walking!" the soft voice encouraged behind him and he obeyed until he felt the space around him widen.

"All right, stop," he heard Scipio whisper and felt the air move as the boy walked past them. A few seconds of silence followed, broken only by the sound of fingers moving on the wall, and then light engulfed them.

He could hear Bo next to him gasp in surprise and had to suppress his urge to do the same. The cinema, completely laid out with red carpet, was a lot bigger than he had imagined. Lamps shaped like stars lit up the walls and galleries. The ground floor was lined with seats that only appeared shabby if you looked closely, at first glance the fabric looked fabulous. A curtain with stars was draped across the stage and elicited Bo an excited: "Prop, look!"

Prosper did look, a warm smile on his face, before he turned to Scipio at the light switch. The boy had taken his mask off, allowing Prosper to take a first good look at him. He had a round face, round and friendly, with dark, gleaming eyes that seemed to search the galleries.

"Wakey-wakey, my pretties," he cooed.

Prosper could feel his uneasiness returning, but before he even had the chance to open his mouth, faces appeared around the cinema – one, two, three, pale and colorless. Prosper could see the wariness in their eyes as they looked down at the three of them.

"Come on down here," Scipio said with a wave of his hand, "Come and meet our new friends."

Silently, they trooped towards the stairs, pale figures, a short, spiky-haired boy up front, then a girl, her hair tied into a long braid, then a dark-skinned boy, broad-shouldered, moving stiffly.

Their walk seemed to stretch into an eternity, like prisoners being led to the gallows. Prosper held Bo tightly as he watched them, breathless. They filed up opposite to them, faces sullen and hostile.

Scipio didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't care.

"These two charming gentlemen are Prosper and Bo, they'll be staying with us. They need my help, just like you did. This little fellow here has a nasty cough. Hornet, do you think you could help him?"

The girl nodded, barely nodded, her eyes never leaving Scipio.

"These three are Mosca, Hornet and Riccio. Come on, say hello."

They nodded, all three of them, the same way Hornet had done before, a mere bob of the head, not daring to look away from the boy who still held his mask in one hand.

Who smiled nonchalantly.

"Well, I'll leave you to get better acquainted. I'll be back soon to check up on you."

He smiled, broadening it as his eyes caught Prosper's. Placing the mask in front of his eyes, he turned, shutting off the light as he did so. They could hear his steps in the hallway as they stood motionless in utter darkness, the brothers clinging heavily to each other.

Endless minutes passed until one of the children spoke, from the sound of it, Prosper guessed it to be the broad-shouldered Mosca.

"Welcome to Hell."

* * *


End file.
